


Thinking Too Hard

by triumphforks



Series: Orion One Shots [2]
Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven: Orion no Kokuin
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: Haizaki finds himself dragged in to Hiroto's life problems, when all he wants is to be left out of them.





	Thinking Too Hard

As much as he disliked having to be on the same team as Kira Hiroto, there was one thing they could both agree on; their room was neutral territory. Walk through that door and it was like the other didn’t even exist. Hiroto plugged in to his music and shut up, and Haizaki himself was free to do whatever he felt like, without having to so much as acknowledge the other boy’s existence.

Tonight he was reading - partly for something to do, and partly to get Kidou off his case about keeping up with study. And as tedious as it was, it had been going pretty well... until something unexpected happened.   
“Oi, Haizaki.”

“What?” He didn’t even bother looking up from his book, and his tone made it clear: whatever Kira Hiroto had to say, he wasn’t interested. 

“What’s with you and Inamori?”

“None of your damn business.” He made a show of turning the page, adamant to end the conversation. But he wasn’t really concentrating, no, instead mentally preparing for whatever attitude Hiroto would throw at him next. 

Only, it didn’t come. And for some reason, that was more irritating than anything he could have said. He snuck a glance over - and instead of the usual Hiroto, lying back and listening to his music, he saw him hunched over, music abandoned, hugging his pillow and glaring at the surface of his bed with an intensity that could burn a hole in it.

It was… unsettling. And he wanted to just ignore it, to just go back to his reading and be unbothered, but now it was even harder to concentrate. That hunched figure haunted his thoughts, demanded attention. So as much as it pained him - as much as he was loath to do it - he broke the awkward silence.

“Why?” He kept his voice… coldly detached, still pretending to be more interested in his book then whatever Hiroto was going through.    
“You seem close.” It was the quietest he’d ever heard Hiroto talk - and it was enough to make him glance over again. The other boy hadn’t moved, though his glare at the bedspread seemed more troubled than angry now. He didn’t say anything. What could he say, anyway? 

Not that it mattered; Hiroto kept on going. “I guess… I wanted to know if it was because you guys are friends, or if... “ He trailed off, almost fighting to find the proper words. He must have failed, because the silence just dragged on longer.

Something about that hit him the wrong way. He thought he’d be safe to take another glance over, just to gauge where the hell this conversation was heading, but that was a mistake. Hiroto was still huddled over, still clinging to his pillow, but instead of being focused on glaring through his bed he was looking directly at him. Those purple eyes were… alien. Troubled, but in an unworldly way. They were almost compelling him to fill in the silence, to answer, and to answer not superficially but from his soul. He sat there, staring, frozen, not wanting to - and on some level, not able to - give what was being asked. 

“Like I said,” he replied, voice guarded, doing his best to stare down those unnatural eyes. “It’s none of your business.” The staring contest held, for one excruciatingly long moment, before Hiroto broke it. Satisfied (or so he told himself), Haizaki went back to his book - but it might as well have been full of blank pages, for all the reading he was doing. And even if he had managed to concentrate, it would have been disrupted again anyway. There was a loud sigh, and the soft  _ thud  _ of something heavy falling on to something soft. He looked over again to see Hiroto was lying on his back now, glaring up at the ceiling. What was his problem anyway?

“They’re all close, aren’t they?”   
“Who?”

“The seniors.”

“I guess?” This was more normal. He’d still been a little on edge, but no, this was just normal, boring small talk. Things fell quiet once more, and this time it held long enough for him to shake off the icky, uneasy feelings it was all giving him. 

It was, unfortunately, not to last.

“I think I like Tatsuya,” Hiroto said suddenly, rushed, loud, as though it had just burst out despite best efforts to keep it in.

“... who?” He glanced over again, and they shared a look - but this time there was nothing deeply unsettling to Hiroto’s expression, just… worry.

“Kiyama.”   
“Why tell me?” What else could he say? A small part of him didn’t want to be so dismissive, but what did any of this have to do with him? Hiroto responded - but he’d pulled the pillow back up tight, and the words came out indistinct and muffled.

“You want to try that again?” Dismissive. He looked away. What else could he do?

“I said I don’t have anyone else to tell, shit for brains.”  _ Now _ things felt more normal. He didn’t bother acknowledging Hiroto with so much as a look.

“Not my problem.” Quiet. For a blissful moment, he thought that was the end of it - but he was wrong. 

“But I don’t know if I actually do like him, you know? I mean, I do, but. Everyone here has all these people they know and all these friends, and I just have Tatsuya.”

He didn’t reply. It didn’t seem to matter.

“How can I know? Even at Eisei I just had Tatsuya.” 

“Do you have to keep talking?”   
“Does it matter? You’re not listening anyway.”  _ Not true.  _ He would  _ like  _ to not have to listen, but something about Hiroto’s voice was so grating and pervasive, he couldn’t tune it out if he tried. “Tatsuya gets on with everyone, you know? It’s like his talent. He’s already making friends here, and I’m stuck with you.”   
“Sorry for your loss.”

“He has all those friends at Eisei too, but I still don’t… I don’t know them. Does he act the same around them like with me? I never paid attention, I just want to be with Tatsuya.”   
“Mm, sounds awful.”   
“I know he has that… what’s his name, Midori-something, they’re really close.” A short, tiny pause, and then a rush of words tinged with panic. “God, what if they’re together? What if I’ve already lost? They’re so close. I’m an idiot.”   
“That’s not wrong.”   
“I want to tell him but… even if I haven’t read any of this wrong, how would it work?  _ Would  _ it work? He’s my brother-”   
“Wait, what?”

“-I guess none of it is final yet, but the old man always liked him more than me-”   
“He’s you  _ brother?”  _ He’d given up any pretense of reading, but that was enough of a shock to get him to actually close the book, and face Hiroto directly. And it was just a little worrying, that the other boy just looked at him calmly, as though nothing he’d said had been weird at all.

“Kind of? It’s complicated.” Hiroto looked back at the roof, his arms folded beneath his head now. He seemed more at ease than before, but there was still something of a tension to him. “My old man wants him to be involved in the company, and it’s a family business, so I guess that makes him family. Is that still weird though?” He frowned slightly, up at the roof, finally going quiet as he thought that one over. And he was quiet for a long time, long enough for Haizaki to realise that whatever this had been - this weird, disjointed confession - was over. The silence had a feeling of finality to it, in a way the other breaks hadn’t. So he picked up his book again, but didn’t make any attempt to keep reading, instead putting it on his desk and heading towards the door. He’d go find something else to do. Anything else. Being caught in here was too weird. 

“Hey!” He stopped just at the door, hand on the handle. He looked back over his shoulder to see Hiroto glaring at him.  _ Can’t he just leave me alone? _

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”   
He grinned.

“Not if I get you first.”

And he left, not bothering to wait for a response. 


End file.
